


JERM SHORTS

by zombiebass



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bisexual Character of Color, Blow Jobs, Denial of Feelings, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-04-14 16:10:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4570953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zombiebass/pseuds/zombiebass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeremy dealing with denial, S&M, threesomes, and one bossy, loud-mouthed friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	JERM SHORTS

1.   
  
Sometimes Jeremy thinks Doxal pisses him off on purpose. Like now, he’s a hundred percent sure that’s what’s happening as Doxal munches on another _loud fucking chip_  when he’s trying to read this passage from his textbook. So he does what any other sane person would do in this situation. He smacks the bag of chips out of Doxal’s hand.  
  
The affronted look on Doxal’s face pleases him to no end.

"Take that noisy shit somewhere else," Jeremy says. He turns back to his worn textbook, tracing the lines of text with his eyes to find where he left off.  
  
He hears Doxal breathe out a suffering sigh and the crinkle of foil as he picks up the bag and the scattered remains of chips on the floor. Doxal shuffles out of Mycena’s bedroom to dump his ruined snack in the trash bin in the kitchen. Distantly, he can hear Mycena’s laugh echoing through the walls at something Doxal presumably told him. Jeremy sneers and grips the textbook tighter in his lap.  
  
It’s not like — it’s not like he’s jealous of their weird relationship. He knows how attached Mycena is to that socially-inept freak of nature. And he knows how that is because it’s the same way with him and Demetrius, sort of. They’re not as touchy-feely like how Mycena is to Doxal, or flat out _weird_ , but they’re close. Like family or something.  
  
It’s not like when Dem touches his back with a large warm hand, there’s a burning imprint there that lasts for just a few seconds even after he removes it. And there isn’t this fuzzy static in his brain when Dem’s eyebrows furrow and he gets this little pout on his face whenever Jeremy does something stupid. And the times when Dem grips his arm tight and pulls him back to refrain him from starting a physical confrontation with some rando fucker — it’s not like he _wants_ Dem to pull him closer, grip him tighter, to feel the press of his warm body against his back and his breath on his neck.  
  
Because Jeremy doesn’t think of things like that. Because him and Dem are like family or something.  
  
Or something, right.

 

2. 

"We need to talk," Naomi says as she barges into his apartment like she’s never heard of knocking or calling or sending a fucking letter  _holy shit_ , “How down are you with S&M?”

"What the fuck," is all Jeremy manages to say before Naomi closes the distance between them in record time and grabs his chin, manicured nails cutting neatly into his skin, and forces his lips to hers.

Nothing calms down his frantic beating heart after that. Not even when she bodily pulls him off the sofa, drags him on stumbling feet to his room where she dumps his lead-filled body on the bed and pins his arms beside his head. 

"So? You ready to take orders?" Naomi lines her body on top of his, her chest pressing down heavily on his own. He’s trying not to gaze so openly at her chest where her low-cut collar fails to cover up the top of her breasts and cleavage in this position, but that’s a battle he knows he’s already lost as he flexes his wrists in her grip in an urge to reach out and touch.

His mouth feels dry and his head feels like it’s full of hot air as he nods. Naomi smiles at him and Jeremy feels his breath catch, feels his heart beat against his rib cage like it wants out because  _God_  she’s so beautiful and that smile is so bright, so comforting, everything he finds right in the world is there in her smile.

There’s a sparkle in her eyes like she knows she’s got him hook, line, and sinker as a nimble finger strokes his chest, nail catching at the collar of his thin t-shirt and tugging down to reveal the skin there. Her thigh shifts so she can slot it in between Jeremy’s and he spreads his legs to let her. He closes his eyes when he feels heat spill from his face to his chest at the implication of it. 

Naomi takes that as her cue. Her soft lips brush over his and he can taste strawberry gloss on the tip of his tongue. The temptation to flip their positions and kiss her deeply, fully like how he wants to with no teasing, none of this foreplay that they always do is overwhelming for a second. But he knows that’s not what he’s supposed to do. Right now Naomi is calling all the shots and the only thing he has to do is obey.

She’s going to devour his soul one day and he’s completely on board with that.

 

3.

"Dem," Jeremy says weakly, because there’s only so much he can take and between the soft kisses to his neck and the slow, methodical strokes rubbing the inside of his thigh, he knows he’s being worked up on purpose so he won’t last longer than five minutes before he’s groveling at his knees.

"Yeah?" Dem breathes, lips grazing his ear. He kisses him there, lips soft and warm pressed to the shell of his ear. His hands slowly travel up, fingertips barely touching, until the pads of his fingers are brushing against the tent in Jeremy’s jeans. 

He groans and lifts his hips to meet Dem’s hand only to have another set of smaller hands push him down. A dainty palm cups his chin and tilts his head back until he’s looking bleary-eyed, upside-down at Naomi’s soft smile. Jeremy feels Demetrius pull back, opting instead to lightly palm at Jeremy’s growing erection.

"What do you want to do with him?" Dem asks softly, low voice rumbling something deep within the pit of Jeremy’s stomach. 

Naomi hums in thought as her hands run slowly up-and-down at the expanse of Jeremy’s chest. She stops suddenly, hazel eyes snapping up to meet Demetrius’. “I wouldn’t mind seeing him suck you off.”

Dem lets out a breathy laugh. “Sure.” He tilts his head down to look at Jeremy and gives him a soft smile. “That okay with you?”

"Yes, yeah whatever you want," He says fervently.

He hears Dem laugh again as he pulls Jeremy up, fingers dragging up his back and mapping out the muscles there which causes a shiver to run down his spine. Dem places a chaste kiss to his lips while his other hand reaches for the zip to his own jeans and pulls it down. A sigh escapes Dem’s lips and puffs over Jeremy’s face as he pulls his cock out of the confines of his pants.

He doesn’t need any prompting anymore, not after the many times they’ve done this. So he settles on his stomach on the bed, cool sheets rubbing against his bare torso, and levels his face with Dem’s cock. Without preamble, he closes his eyes and takes Demetrius into his mouth and hears him suck in a sharp breath, hand flying to grip Jeremy’s hair. He moans around Dem’s cock as he takes him deeper, as deep as he can manage without choking before nearly pulling off so his lips are just kissing the tip of his cock. And maybe Demetrius likes what he sees because he lets out a strangled groan deep in his throat as Jeremy works his way back down, swallowing around the thickness in his mouth.

Distantly, he hears the rustle of fabric and knows Naomi is touching herself to the sight of Jeremy deep-throating his childhood friend-turned-boyfriend. He feels heat pool in his hips and grinds down against the bed in search for friction. A tight grip in his hair pulls his head up-and-down on the cock in his mouth as he shallowly thrusts against the mattress, which is totally fine. Demetrius can fuck his mouth however he pleases just as long as Jeremy gets to come soon. 

It didn’t take long before Dem’s body began to tense and shake from pleasure. He forgets how to think as Dem tugs his head down to the base of his cock, Jeremy’s nose pressed against Dem’s lower abdomen as he swallows around him, and warm come spills into Jeremy’s mouth and runs down the back of his throat. Dem’s hips twitch a little as he pulls his softening cock out with one hand, thumb tracing the leftover mess on Jeremy’s lips before pressing past the soft flesh and running against his teeth. He opens his mouth to let Dem’s thumb push against his tongue to taste the salt on his skin and licks lightly at the digit.

Naomi’s body presses against Jeremy’s sweaty back, the soft flesh of her breasts against his shoulder blades feels too hot for him. She reaches a hand between his thighs and palms at the hard line of him through his jeans, which for some reason has yet to be removed. Naomi’s fingers undo the top button and zip slowly, working him into some kind of desperation as silky black hair pools around his shoulders and glossy lips press firm kisses to the junction between his neck and collar. Her hand pushes his jeans and boxers past his thighs and takes his too-hard cock in her other hand, stroking.

"Jeremy," she says softly, right against his ear. "Come for me."

He sucks in a shuddering breath and let’s a long moan rumble in his throat. Her hand strokes him faster and that’s it, that’s all it takes before he’s spilling across the sheets, Naomi’s slick hand still working on him as he’s coming down.

His head feels light and there’s not enough air filling his lungs as he tips off and collapses against the bed. He feels Naomi at his back, fingers rubbing smooth circles on his skin and Demetrius in front of him peppering his forehead with kisses. It’s nice, he thinks as his eyes slip closed and arms wrap around his chest and back.

Really nice.

 

4.

It’s Sunday which is great for Jeremy since that means he doesn’t have to wait tables today and deal with rowdy teenagers that aren’t worth their weight in the measly tips he receives from them. He’s pretty much decided he’s going to confine himself to bed all day, catch up on the lack of sleep he’s been getting all week when his phone decides to start vibrating against the mattress.

He tells himself he doesn’t let out a suffering groan as his thumb swipes against the touch screen to answer the call. He can’t even get out a greeting before Mycena dives into hurried speech.

"Dude! You gotta come over and listen to my set, like, right the fuck now because I am freaking out over this sick as shit mix I made. Like, I’m a fucking god, ya know? Like, the muses must’ve gotten together and had a huge blow-out party in my head or something ‘cause this shit is on point and I need someone to listen to this in the goddamn flesh and looky looky who’s home right now doing jack shit? You! So hurry up."

Jeremy blinks slowly. His thumb presses against the ‘end call’ button and he tosses his phone to the side of the bed. He pulls the covers back over his body, linen neatly tucking under his chin. A few seconds later he feels two short vibrations from his phone, probably Mycena texting and whining at him to get off his ass. 

Whatever, today’s Sunday which means it’s International Sleep Day and Jeremy isn’t one to pass up to celebrating holidays.

 

**Author's Note:**

> you can find all the characters mentioned in this story on my art blog :') http://zbdraws.tumblr.com/


End file.
